This was a phase of colonial life which struck the eager critic of the new land with something like dismay. Was it possible in this strange country that there might be yet other instances of human love and charity efficiently performed with equal thoroughness and absence of demonstration? If so, had she not been making herself somewhat ridiculous in assuming hurriedly that there were so many niches in Australian temples sacred to heroic effort which were unfilled before she arrived.
In spite of the slight feeling of soreness which the knowledge caused her, the general influence of the symposium, separated as she had been for some weeks from companions of her own sex and social standing, was unusually exhilarating. Her naturally genial temperament led her, therefore, to laugh secretly at her own miscalculation and discomfiture as a very good and choice joke indeed.
However, she was less explanatory than her brother had been, preferring inferential admission, after the manner of her sex. This concession to the wisdom of the colonists exhibited itself in unaffected good humour and affectionate cordiality towards her comparatively recent friends.
She joined cheerily in all the amusements and occupations of the evening. She sang and played, praising the performances of the Stamford girls and the new songs they had brought back with them from the metropolis. She talked flowers and greenhouse with her hostess, and had a slight political tilt with Mr. Stamford. In all these subjects she exhibited sound teaching as well as a careful theoretical training. Nothing could be more modest and less assertive than her general manner, at the same time that a wider range of thought, consequent upon European travel and extended social experience, was unconsciously apparent. When the Windāhgil family retired for the night, Mr. Stamford expressed his opinion to his wife, in the sanctity of the matrimonial chamber, that he had never met a finer girl in his life before, and that he was delighted that they should have such a neighbour; while Hubert, in the smoking-room, whither he had retired with his young friend at a late period of the evening, may have meditated upon the command “to love thy neighbour as thyself,” but forbore to commit himself by unguarded expression.
On the next day, after a mirthful and consolatory breakfast—a trifle later than usual, inasmuch as the three maidens sat talking so late that the morning slumbers were prolonged—the new neighbours departed. Fresh expressions of approval and surprise were exhibited by this English guest at the home-baked bread, the butter, the honey, the incomparable home-cured bacon, and other triumphs of domestic economy.
“I have enjoyed myself as I never expected to do in the bush,” she said; “I thought there would be nothing but devotion to ‘duty, stern daughter of the voice of God.’ I never dreamed that so much of the poetry of life was attainable. You have taught me a lesson” (this was in confidence to Laura at parting) “for which I shall be all the better henceforth. I am not too old or too conceited to learn, at any rate.”
“You have nothing very much to learn,” replied Laura; “we may be mutually advantageous to one another, that’s all, if we make an agreement to put as much friendship and as little ceremony into our intercourse as possible. It will not be long before we come over to stay a night at Wantabalree, before poor Hubert starts for Queensland, I grieve to say, and then you must comfort us in our loneliness.”
“Papa will be quite charmed to see you again. If you had heard all the fine things he said about you and Linda, you would have thought he was looking out for a step-mamma for me. But he is purely theoretical in that department, I am thankful to say, and now good bye, and au revoir!”
The promised visit was paid, and a renewal of friendship and good offices ratified, while the days passed on and the period of Hubert’s stay with his family drew near to a close. The long-expected, long-dreaded day arrived for his departure to the land of adventure, and, alas! of danger—it could not be concealed.
All preparations for the momentous event were at length completed, and once more the family assembled at the railway terminus at Mooramah to bid farewell to the son and brother—the mainstay, the hope of Windāhgil. Deep and unaffected was the grief, although outward manifestations were heroically suppressed.